Just A Fantasy
by KTBallerina
Summary: “We both know it will never come to be.” A story born on a fantasy. AngelinaMontague.


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, except for the twisted plot.

Summary: "We both know it will never come to be." A story born on a fantasy. Angelina/Montague.

Just a Fantasy

"You must be dying to have a brood of red-haired, freckled kids," he says mockingly as they lay beside one another in his bed. He tries to forget she belongs to someone else most of the time, now he tries to belittle it.

She laughs, trying to ease his fears about Fred. After all, she only stays with Fred because he is safe, predictable. Fred will always be there, waiting for her. Who knows how long David Montague will want her? Another day, another week, forever. She pulls the sheet higher to cover her body, to protect herself from the cold, she can not stand the cold of the dungeon.

"I'll name my first son David, to remind me of you," she replies, the same note of laughter in her voice. She knows Fred would like to name his children something unique, but surely, she could sway him.

"Let's name our first son Lucien," he says suddenly, accidentally letting his thoughts slip in the conversation. He knows there will never be a first son. He was envisioning an athletic young man, with skin like his mother.

"We'll name our daughter Fionghall, and call her Finn for short," she whispers back, almost dreamily. She knows there will be no daughter. She saw a little girl, dressed like a princess with his eyes.

"Every weekend, we'll have a picnic lunch on the grounds of the Montague Estate. The house elves will pack a feast into baskets for us," David continues, imagining the scene in his head.

"Tomato and mayonnaise sandwich for you," she states candidly, knowing his favorites.

"And turkey and pickle for you," he says, remembering how much she loves pickles.

"When we're through eating, we'll take a stroll through the gardens. We'll grow roses in the formal garden, but in the private garden it will be lilies and lilacs," she tells him with a smile. He nods his head, unable to deny her anything he can give her.

"In the evening, we'll go to a social event, perhaps a dinner party or ball. Everyone will talk about how beautiful my wife is. The entire evening, I worry about someone trying to whisk you away from me," David said, unconsciously pulling her closer to him.

"All the other women will tell me what a wonderful dancer you are and how they have never seen such a devoted husband," she adds a little sarcasm to her voice as she talks. She knows David will never be this man that she dreams of.

"Each year, we'll throw a Christmas Ball, the social event of the season! The guest list will be five hundred people, we'll even invite the Weasleys, just so Fred understands why you left him," he said with a smirk on his face.

"Just so you can flaunt our marriage in his face," she says, under her breath, knowing he heard her. He dismisses the comment and moves on.

"When our kids are old enough to go to Hogwarts, Lucien will make the quidditch team in his first year," he says fiercely, already dreaming of his son's glory.

"Gryffindor will win every match his entire career at Hogwarts," she agrees enthusiastically. She can feel him shudder at the thought.

"You mean Slytherin," he corrects mildly.

"And Finn, she'll be a prefect and Head Girl," she adds, ignoring his comment about houses. "She'll be a beauty, but she'll be smart and probably a Slytherin."

"And one damn good flyer, with a mother like you," David said, giving her a small kiss on the cheek.

"Each year, we'll collect them from the Hogwarts Express and be amazed," she said looking troubled.

Looking at her, she seemed distant, as though she were floundering.

"The day will come," David insisted, trying to lighten her mood.

"We both know it will never come to be. There will be no Finn and no Lucien. No dinner parties or picnics. Its just a fantasy, David," she told him sternly. "Fantasies aren't real."

"Is it your fantasy, as well?" he asked her quietly. She struggled to find the words, then fell silent.

David slipped out of the bed and began to get dressed; he knew she needed to get back to the tower, where she belonged.

Twenty Years Later

"Mum, Mum!" a girl yells excitedly rushing towards a middle aged woman. She throws her arms around her mother. The girl is without a doubt beautiful. She is still wearing her robes and has a prefect badge pinned to them.

"Oh, Finn! I missed you so much," her mother says giving her an enormous hug.

"Mother, Slytherin lost the House Cup again!" Finn tells her mother, pouting slightly. "I have to suffer the embarrassment of having a Gryffindor for a brother."

"Tough luck there, Finn," a young man's voice says as he joins the group.

"Lucien, I'm so happy to see you," his mother says as she gives him a hug.

"We won the quidditch cup, again," he said proudly, knowing the team had not lost since he joined the team in his first year. This had been his first year as captain and had wanted the cup worse than ever.

"Hello Angelina," came the calm voice, it belonged to David.

"David, I was just collecting our children, Lucien and Fionghall," she said with an odd tone in her voice. Lucien saw the perplexed expression come over his mother's face. David leaned in close to Angelina's ear.

"This is not a fantasy," he whispers as he kisses her.

A/N: I know, I know, this is purely unrealistic and illogical, but I'm suffering from a serious case of writer's block. I need a prompt or challenge or something. I'm considering writing a longer fic, which would connect the two portions of the story. Just tell me what you think. Love, KTBallerina.


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